


Theory of Relativity

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Meddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock's Dad: Matchmaker!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theory of Relativity

**Author's Note:**

> There's something to be said for relatives... It has to be said because it's unprintable!  
> \-- Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

Finding his son had been a challenge when the boy was young. A healthy, well developed child, Spock had still managed to fit into surprising places that Sarek would not logically think to check for him. The Vulcan children, bullies Amanda had called them, would torment Spock and he would need a place to be alone. His worried mother would search for Spock, but his emotion free father would deduce his location.

Sarek had not predicted the emotional reaction most of Vulcan had toward his son. As such, he had not been prepared to deal with Spock’s reactions, or his own anger. Spock’s half blood status was not his fault, so why had these bullies and their parents not protested Sarek’s marriage? Had the Vulcans simply treated Spock as one of them, how different would he have been? Sarek pushed these pointless ruminations aside as he made his way to Spock’s latest hiding place; his primary laboratory on the enterprise. 

Entering the laboratory, Sarek saw that Spock was having a conversation with Captain Kirk. Not wishing to intrude on what could have been important ships business, despite having heard this described as a ‘milk run’ by seven different crew members, Sarek waited a respectful distance away. In the quiet of the laboratory, Sarek’s Vulcan ears couldn’t help but overhear their words. 

“Spock, we’re off duty. Call me Jim and let me beat you at chess.” 

“Jim, the simulations I have been running are nearing completion and I am intrigued by the results.” 

“What would it take to intrigue you in a friendly supper and a cutthroat game?” 

Spock turned away from his screen, and let his eyes flicker over Jim’s eager face. This was an illogical move, as Spock doubtless knew what Jim looked like, but it stirred a memory in Sarek. “If we eat while playing chess, I can return to my simulations afterward.” 

“Only if you promise not to spend all night in here. Again.” 

“As a Vulcan, I do not require the same amounts of sleep that you are accustomed to.” 

“And what’s that got to do with the price of apples?” 

“I do not understand your meaning.” 

“I mean the amount of sleep you need is not directly proportional to the amount of relaxing you need to do. Not all of your off duty time is set aside for eating and sleeping.” 

“I understand that, but find human methods of relaxation unnecessary to maintaining my health.” 

“It maintains my health to know you’re healthy. Does that work for you?” Jim’s words surprised Sarek and Spock as well, if his eyebrow could be considered a source of reliable information. 

Sarek waited, to see which logical argument Spock would counter with. Sarek would choose the flawed idea that Spock’s physical health had any direct correlation to the mental health of his captain. Now Spock’s words surprised him. 

“I promise to read the results and retire to my quarters to meditate on them, if we combine eating with our chess game.” 

“Excellent! I’ll get the grub, and met you in twenty.” Looking very pleased with himself, Captain Kirk exited through another door, oblivious to Sarek’s presence. Spock knew he was there and offered him a respectful bow of acknowledgement. 

“Did you wish to speak with me, Father?” 

“Yes. I know that my time on the ship will be taken by official duties when the other ambassadors begin to arrive in the morning. If you will forgive me, I would take this evening to meditate on the important issues before me. We will talk later.” 

“That is most agreeable. I will be running experiments during the journey to Babel, but nothing I cannot step away from to speak with you, at your discretion.” 

“Understood, son.” Respectful bows to each other and Sarek left the laboratory. Their relationship was improving, but still confusingly formal to outsides, such as the science officers in the laboratory. That wasn’t what Sarek went to meditate on, nor was it the intricacies of the upcoming conference. Sarek’s important issues involved his son and the enigmatic Captain Kirk. 

**J <3S **

Once deep in his meditative state, Sarek’s mind was still. Now ideas would come to him and not be dismissed as illogical. His first thought was of Amanda, as it always was. He accepted the grief and loss, only to let it slide away. It was part of him and he could move on to more recent events. Instead his next thought was a memory of her. Like most polite humans, she looked at a person when she spoke to them. Sarek would tease her about this after they were married, but this memory was of before. He could not make out the surroundings, only her unlined face as they talked. Another person appeared beside them and something separated Amanda from his view, a printed menu. At once, the rest of the restaurant and the species of the waiter were all clear. 

Sarek accepted this memory, but did not try to find meaning in it. As it faded the image of Spock looking up in the laboratory a short while ago came to Sarek. As Spock’s eyes met Jim Kirk’s, the laboratory faded from view. It was so obvious; Amanda would have laughed at him for having to mediate to see it. Gently, Sarek stroked the jagged spot in his awareness where she had been. 

_“Laugh, my love. My eyes have been blinded to such things since you were taken from me.”_

The rest of Sarek’s meditation was an attempt to accept a fresh wave of sorrow. 

**J <3S **

The other Ambassadors arrived over the next two days, but Sarek found time to lunch with Spock both days. They did not need the meal, but it was an excuse the humans would accept. The first lunch was a gentle probing of Spock’s time on the ship and his plans for the future. The second day, after they had finished their small salads, Sarek got to the first step in his plan. 

“Spock, I have done my best to keep you apprised of the situation on New Vulcan.” 

“Yes, and your insights have been most welcome.” 

Appreciation for the simple act of forwarding information would be illogical. By speaking of Sarek’s additional comments, Spock managed to logically thank Sarek for all of his efforts. It was well done, and Sarek could suddenly see his son as Ambassador in a few years. Putting the image aside, Sarek moved on. 

“There is one thing I have left out. It is pure speculation on my part, a hunch as your captain would say.” 

“A hunch, Father?” Spock’s eyebrows jumped at the idea of his logical father even admitting such things existed. 

“Your vocal tones approach the incredulous, but your logic is sound. I am not given to hunches or going with my gut. However, a small but growing movement seeks to put all Vulcan eggs in one basket.” Spock’s eyebrows were too surprised at the cliché to respond. Sarek could almost have been amused. 

“They wish to recall all Vulcans and ground them until the current population is effectively tripled. I do not believe this wise, as the majority of Vulcans survived because they were off planet. I will fight such a measure, but the most I may be able to accomplish is suggest only un-bonded Vulcans be recalled.” 

“A wise compromise, if such an extreme solution should come to pass.” 

“Perhaps, but if you do not wish to return to New Vulcan at that time you may find it beneficial to find someone with whom you could bond.” 

“Commander Spock to the Bridge.” The official summons brought Spock to his feet, but he paused when Sarek held up a hand. 

“I should like the names of potential mates before we reach Babel.” 

“Understood, Father.” A nod, and Sarek was alone. With that plan in motion, Sarek could now concentrate on the conference and the welcome party this evening. 

**J <3S **

As the turbo life took him to the bridge, Spock allowed himself to consider the conversation he had just had with Sarek. Recalling all un-bonded individuals would be a strange solution to Vulcan problems. Perhaps more Vulcans suffered from impaired logic than statistics would suggest, but Spock was not in a position to contradict recent findings. Spock knew he could live on New Vulcan, but he had not regretted leaving two years ago. The turbolift doors opened, to show Spock his new home. He did not want to leave, but the solution would have to wait as Jim had turned to speak to him. 

“Spock, we’re intercepting signals. Chekov says they’re originating from inside the ship.” Before Jim finished explaining, Spock was scanning the information Chekov had sent to his station. 

“Attempting to locate the source now, Captain.” The signal stopped before Spock could locate the source and he set his equipment to monitor for that particular signal and similar ones. Then it was a matter of waiting for the signal to repeat, but the time was not spent idly. 

Scotty emerged from the turbolift with a box of parts and theories about increasing the sensitivity of the sensors. With Spock’s help, Scotty managed to upgrade the sensors without shutting them off, though he did shock himself twice. Each time, Spock was given new human expressions to research later. When Jim made him leave to dress for the reception, Spock started to protest. 

“Spock, the signals started when the ambassador’s arrived, so what’s the logical thing to do?” 

“Watch the ambassadors closely. Security would be better suited for that activity, while I monitor the sensors.” 

“Security doesn’t blend in well.” Spock had to nod at Jim’s very logical words. This caused Jim to grin as he continued. “Ok, how about this. If I got to do it, you got to do it.” 

Determining a ‘why’ question now might sound petulant, Spock acquiesced. “Understood, Captain.” 

**J <3S **

Once he was presentable in his dress uniform, Spock entered the room where the function was being held. The Captain had not arrived yet, but Dr. McCoy picked suspiciously at the buffet table. Finding a place from which to observe the room, Spock attempted to observe the ambassadors for suspicious behavior. Instead, he found his attention on his father, as Sarek avoided the loud questions of the Tellerite ambassador. 

By the time Spock had thought to count the number of such functions he was forced to attend, he gave it up as not worth the effort. Always though, he could count on his mother for a touch on the hand. A simple thing, but she would drop her carefully constructed mental shields to show him her love. Sometimes, she would bend down and offer him a joke under the pretext of straightening his hair. Even if he would not appreciate the jokes, he secretly appreciated the little things she did for him. 

Now, she was not here and Sarek suffered for it. He had lost weight and there was a grayness to him that Spock did not like. Perhaps he should return to New Vulcan, and see to improving his Father’s health. Turning to the sound of an opening door, Spock saw Jim enter. He looked around the room, every inch the captain of the flagship of the fleet. Until he saw Spock, and grinned like a little boy up to great mischief. Spock dismissed the idea as hyperbole, even as Jim sauntered over to him. 

“Not supposed to be lurking in the corner, Spock. Mingle with our honored guests.” 

“I am observing them for suspicious behavior, as ordered.” 

“If I wanted observing from the other side of the room, I’d have put security in here instead of just outside the door.” 

“Shame the food’s not on the other side of the door.” McCoy entered the conversation, even though he seemed to be talking to his plate of food. “I think these green mashed taters are staring at me.” 

“It’s guacamole, Bones, it’s not from Romulous.” 

“Then why was it next to the beets and not the chips?” 

“Beets? I didn’t see beets on the menu.” Jim moved to better see McCoy’s plate and grimaced as understanding came over him. “Not beets, Bones. I wouldn’t suggest eating those.” 

“Smell like beets. So what are they?” 

Spock shared Jim’s revulsion, and offered up a description for the doctor. “A delicacy for the Tellerites, candied primate brains sliced thin in a pagan ritual that involves nude dancers. The delegates brought it with them.” 

“I think I’ll drink my supper.” McCoy held the plate at arm’s length as he turned to look at the exotic liquors on display. 

“Avoid the stuff that looks like beer.” Jim said with a solemn voice, even as Spock reviewed the menu in his head. 

“Understood, and I’m not asking what it is!” McCoy went to toss his plate in the recycler, and Jim turned to wink at Spock. 

“It is beer, but beer makes him, um, flatulent.” 

“I expect the ships air scrubbers can filter out any smells McCoy may make.” 

“You’ve never smelt a Bones beer fart. I’m being beckoned by the Andorian party. Go find someone to talk too.” Jim left, grabbing a drink on his way, and Spock considered him. 

As his captain and his friend, Jim would assist with the puzzle Sarek had given Spock. Finding the time to discuss it might be difficult, at least until they reached Babel. Noise pulled Spock’s attention back to his father, who was being shouted at by the Tellerites. They were a quarrelsome species, so Sarek should have expected this. Instead there was a definite grey shade to Sarek now, and Spock hurried to his side. Jim and McCoy arrived a second later. 

“What’s the trouble here, gentlebeings?” Jim slipped easily into his diplomatic mode now, though it had been a troublesome thing to learn. The Tellerites began to shout over each other, and Jim tried to calm them diplomatically, for 12.3 seconds. “Enough!” 

In the silence that followed the captain’s shouted command, Sarek was the first to speak. “Captain, I am sure the Ambassador can explain it to you. With your permission, I would like a quiet moment to myself. Dr. McCoy, would you escort me so that the captain can reach me if he needs to?” 

“Sure, Ambassador.” McCoy was startled to be singled out, but at Jim’s nod he went out with Sarek. 

As Jim calmed things down, Spock wondered at Sarek and his logical motivations for selecting McCoy and not his own son. 

McCoy escorted Sarek back into the party a half hour later and Spock noticed his father looked better. Spock also noticed that McCoy did not drink his supper. He found a chair near Sarek and ate some of the guacamole and chips that had been provided, drinking only non-alcoholic beverages. Spock would have asked McCoy about this behavior, but Chekov arrived to tell him the signal had been detected again. Spock spent the rest of the night analyzing the signals, while Uhura attempted to decode the message. 

As the night shift worked around them, Spock allowed part of his brain consider Uhura. She was special and more than worthy of his affections, but would not continue a relationship that lacked a certain something she could not adequately define. Strangely enough, there were times when Spock understood what she meant. They made logical sense as a couple, but something was still missing. 

“Spock?” Pulling away from his analysis of two separate situations, Spock slowly focused on Jim. He was in his uniform, bright and polished for the day ahead of them. “You been here all night?” 

“Yes, Captain, but I have a solution to our dilemma.” Pointing out that he had only come up with that solution when seeing his captain did not seem logical at this juncture. Spock also did not notice that Jim’s smile at his words revived him in a way sleep would not have. 

**J <3S **

“Sir, I am finding it unlikely that this is the best method for catching the intruder.” Considering how close his mouth was to the captain’s ear, Spock chose to whisper his statements. 

“So you said, but it’s based on your idea.” 

Spock was certain his idea involved placing more sensors along the corridors that the ambassadors were likely to be on. Unfortunately, this required more sensors than they had, and Scotty had suggested tricorders. Kirk had been the one to suggest pairs of crewmembers hiding in closets, crawlspaces, and anywhere they wouldn’t be seen, scanning for signals. Perhaps, if Spock had used a less conservative estimation, they might have been able to provided the correct number of unmanned sensors. 

“I may have miscalculated, Sir.” 

“Oh, how Bones wishes to hear you say that!” 

“Do you think he would be interested in a trade?” 

“You say that to him and he takes your place in this closet?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“He might, but I want you here. Suppose our equipment locates the source of the transmission? You’re a much better fighter than Bones. You can also fine tune or fix the equipment if need be. Besides, you smell better.” 

“…Thank you, Sir.” Spock considered the ramifications of telling a superior officer that you found him to be the least offensive to your sense of smell of his whole species. Spock was saved from admitting he liked Jim’s smell, even to himself, by Jim speaking again. 

“I know we’re on duty, but when more than half of your body is squashed against mine, it’s okay to call me Jim.” 

“Understood, Jim, though I might point out that not even half of my body is pressed to your back.” 

“Right. So any news from the universe to distract me from that body and the squishing involved?” 

Quickly seizing on the first thought to come up, Spock managed not to think about how Jim’s phrase might be misinterpreted. “Perhaps this is not the best time to discuss it, but I do have a personal problem.” 

“Can’t get more personal than this while still clothed, so fire away.” 

“My father has indicated that Vulcans may be recalled, to expedite the breeding rate.” 

“What a lovely, poetic way Vulcans have of expressing things.” 

“Sarcasm is not conducive to this conversation, or most personal interactions.” 

“Sorry. So do they want you to submit a cup?” 

“I am unsure what you mean, but Father suggests I need to establish a relationship or expect to return to New Vulcan.” 

“Leave the ship? You can’t just send some, uh, genetic material?” 

“There is a human expression that may help to clarify the situation; it takes a village to raise a child. We seem insular to humans, but there is a certain amount of interaction that is necessary even to raise a Vulcan child. Both parents have distinct roles to play, and if one parent is removed, even more is expected of general acquaintances. Even my upbringing was the result of instructors in the ways of Surak, trainers in the mental disciplines, public schooling, private tutors, and elders wise in the ancient ways. Admittedly, my parents had to pay for these services because of my hybrid nature, but my point remains valid.” 

“Remind me again why you care if these heartless bastards survive?” 

“I had not considered the possibility of allowing them to go extinct.” 

“Never mind Spock, I was just being sarcastic again.” 

“Ah.” Not the most articulate of statements, but Spock was unsure of what to say, as he was in so many situations with humans. 

“Anyway, what you need is the old fake girlfriend routine. Works in all the old Earth vids anyway. Uhura simply pretends to date you, at least until your father leaves.” 

“An intriguing notion. I do not know if my father has seen the vids in question, but I do not believe he would have cause to question my honesty. As you may have heard, Vulcans do not lie.” 

“Forgot about that.” 

“My father also knows that I have ended my romantic association with Uhura, which may raise suspicions.” 

“Ask Chapel out, she’ll be convincing enough for your father.” 

“Nurse Chapel is an intelligent individual, though given to emotional extremes.” 

“And you don’t want to be subjected to those emotions, or encourage her to show you even more.” 

“Essentially correct, though I would not say so to her.” 

“Smart move.” Jim paused, as if consulting the crew list in his head. “What about guys? Would you father object to a homosexual relationship?” 

“I do not believe so, as there are precedents in Vulcan lore. The individual would have to be extraordinary, however, to be considered more important than the chance to breed.” 

“Like the youngest starship captain in two timelines?” 

“Jim?” 

“Exactly. Date me, and see if I win your father’s approval.” 

“A very generous offer…”

“Generous? You’d better be. I expect gifts from my boyfriends, and lots of them.” 

The modified tricorder in Jim’s hand came to life, filling the dark closet with multicolored lights. It had clearly detected a signal and they watched as the source came closer. It passed the closet, and Jim unlocked the door. The startled Andorian started to run, but Jim got him with a flying tackle. He turned to kick Jim’s face, but Spock stopped him with a nerve pinch. Spock looked at Jim, who was grinning with adrenaline and triumph. Other people came, following the signals their tricorders had detected, so Spock was unsure of whom he followed back to the brig. Jim was his captain, first and foremost, but was he a friend pretending to be more, or a boyfriend pretending to be less? 

McCoy came down to the brig to examine the alien, whose antenna had fallen off in the struggle. As Jim tried to get straight answers out of the Andorian delegation, Spock examined the communications device made to look like an Andorian’s antenna. McCoy gave a shout and backed hurriedly away from the fake Andorian, bringing everyone’s attention to him. 

“He woke up, just enough to kill himself. I’d guess he had poison hidden in a tooth or something, but there was nothing I could do to stop him.” McCoy genuinely hated losing patients, no matter what their species or allegiance, a trait Spock secretly admired in him. Fairness and equality were very logical after all. 

“It’s all right Bones. Do what you need to, but I need a species and any other clues you can find.” Jim offered McCoy a sympathetic pat on the back, and then turned on the Andorians. “Ambassador, perhaps we can adjourn to a conference room?” 

It sounded like a question, but even the Andorians knew it wasn’t. They argued amongst themselves, but followed Jim out. McCoy ordered Chapel to bring down a gurney so they could move the body to sick bay for autopsy. When he switched off the comm., Spock found himself alone with McCoy for the first time since the party. Now the logical questions could be asked. 

“Doctor, when you left the party last night with my Father, what did you do?” 

“You can’t call that thing last night a party, Spock. Maybe a meet and greet. I thought you were all about being accurate?” 

“McCoy, is my father ill? He left with a doctor, and returned looking noticeably better.” 

“Spock, as long as your father is in full control of his mental faculties, I can’t discuss him with you. Just as I can’t tell him about how many times you’ve been hurt in two years or the number of organs I’ve replaced thanks to Scotty’s formula for engine room scotch. Privacy laws and all that, Spock. You got any questions, ask your father.” McCoy was sticking to his guns on this one, but was quick to look away when Chapel arrived with the gurney. 

Spock considered going to Sarek and asking now, but alarms blared as the ship rocked. They were clearly being fired on, and he was needed on the bridge. 

The small craft had been hiding under the Enterprise, a security blindspot Spock would fix as soon as he could. For now, he provided what details he could of the weapons and crew of the craft. It wasn’t much, but the Enterprise was more than a match for the ship. Kirk could have destroyed it, instead he offered assistance if they surrendered. Spock doubted Jim was truly surprised when the spaceship’s captain chose to self-destruct. 

Starfleet had to be informed, and their orders went against Jim’s instincts. He wanted to find out who was attacking them, but Starfleet wanted the conference to go ahead as scheduled. Jim was told to collect what data he could, but get the delegates safely there, on time. They scanned the area and collected some debris, before moving away. They were less than four hours away from Babel when Spock officially ended his two day shift. He went directly to his father’s assigned room, and sought entry. 

“Greetings, my son. Please come in.” Sarek stepped back from the door, to allow Spock to enter. He waited until they were both seated before speaking, and to be polite, Spock waited for Sarek to continue. “Have you come to tell me of the potential bondmates you have decided upon?” 

“No, Father. I have come to ask about your health. Dr. McCoy sited privacy laws, instead of laughing when I suggested you sought his medical expertise during the meet and greet.” 

“I did not want you to factor my situation into your decision to stay with Starfleet or move to New Vulcan. After the destruction of Vulcan, McCoy insisted on examining everybody rescued. He noticed that I suffer from a degenerative heart condition, long before I would have sought treatment on Vulcan. The medication he prescribed has prevented it from worsening, until this trip. He took me to sick bay, compared the heart now as to then and altered the medication. He also made me promise that I would seek assistance from a Vulcan healer in the next six months, or he would be forced to pull me over his knee and give me a spanking. At least I believe that is what he intended to do, should I not make my health a priority.” 

“From Dr. McCoy, that is a light threat, indicating your condition is not particularly serious yet. Will you seek medical advice once you return to New Vulcan?” 

“Yes, it was illogical of me to ignore it this long.” 

Spock paused to consider this, one of the rare occasions his father had admitted to being less than perfect. Each occasion somehow made him appreciate his father more. The chiming of Sarek’s doorbell was only one more interruption in days of such things. 

“Come.” Sarek called, even as he and Spock stood to welcome their quest; the Ambassador and his family must always be polite. The door opened to show Captain Kirk, in a spotless uniform with every hair in place. Considering how he had looked when Spock left the bridge, Spock knew Kirk had stopped by his room before coming here. Obviously he wanted to make an impression, but it seemed illogical to do so with an individual he had met several times before. 

“Ambassador,” Kirk greeted as he walked over to them. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, something he only did when nervous. Realizing what Kirk might have to be nervous about, Spock started to say they hadn’t been discussing that. “I wanted to be here when Spock told you, to show you how much your approval means to me. I know that I am not the ideal person for your son, not being logical or smart enough. I am also overly emotional and perhaps more instinctual than I should be, but for your son I will work on being a better person.” 

Sarek raised an eyebrow and glanced at Spock before answering. “A most impressive speech, Captain, one I could logically approve. However, the extreme factions on New Vulcan will not be swayed by heartfelt words. Perhaps I could have a holo of a simple exchange of affection?” 

“Wait, you want a picture of us kissing or something?” 

“That would be acceptable, Captain.” Turning, Sarek went to retrieve a small camera out of his belongings, allowing Jim to shoot Spock a panicked look. Spock returned with what might have been an apologetic eyebrow, before Sarek was facing them again. “I am prepared.” 

Spock stepped toward Kirk, raising his hand. Jim listened to the shouting in his gut, grabbed Spock and gave him the best kiss he could manage. Spock’s hand forgot about the Vulcan kiss he’d believed his father wanted, to curve around the small of Jim’s back. Spock forgot about his hands as he absorbed the emotions Jim was unintentionally sending him. The lust was there, as it had been every time Spock had touched Jim’s mind, but now it was focused on Spock. 

Behind it there was a bright fire of wanting more than they had, of knowing how epic they could be together. Spock could easily lose himself in all that Jim felt, and the desire to do so overwhelmed him. Spock pulled back and out of the kiss, before he could give in. Jim was looking at him in surprise and delight, causing Spock to regret pulling away. 

“That should be sufficient gentleman.” Sarek wisely spoke up, before the two men could get lost in each other again. He turned off the holo and went to put it back. Jim pulled himself away from Spock and attempted to straighten his hair, hair Spock now remembered running his hands through. Sarek turned back to them to speak. “As we arrive shortly, I need to pack and check for any communiqués.” 

“We’ll let you get to that, sir.” Jim offered with a smile, even as he edged toward the door. 

Spock offered Sarek a head bow before following. “I will see you when you beam down, Father.” 

In the corridor, Spock followed Jim silently. A short turbolift ride and they were in the crew quarters. Alone in the hallway, Jim wrapped his hand around Spock’s wrist and pulled him toward Jim’s room. Spock expected all the talking they needed to do would take place in the privacy of Jim’s room, but was forced to reevaluate that belief as the door closed behind him. It was decidedly difficult to talk with someone else’s tongue in your mouth, Spock discovered. 

Shoving Jim against a wall without breaking the kiss did not seem to reduce Jim’s need. Jim performed his own experiment, learning that removing Spock’s trousers actually increased Spock’s ardor. To be expected, but a good scientist always tested things considered obvious. Jim slid to his knees, taking Spock’s penis into his mouth, and Spock found he could not remember the tensile strength of the wall under his hands. It was important, as Spock didn’t want to rip holes in the walls, but Jim didn’t care, kept licking and sucking until Spock dug his fingers into the metal. 

Jim slipped away when Spock was done shaking through his orgasm, and Spock bent forward to examine the wall for finger marks. 

“You can fix the wall when on duty.” Spock turned to find Jim had removed all of his clothes, and now lay on the bed with a tube of something in his hands. The pinks and reds of his erection were particularly captivating to Spock’s way of thinking. “We’ve got three hours until we reach Babel. What are you going to spend the time doing?” 

“You, Jim.” 

Spock was satisfied he had finally used the language with more than the literal meaning, and shortly Jim was very satisfied that Spock was actively interested in pursuing this relationship after his father had left. When they arrived in the transporter room together, late, and freshly showered, Sarek was satisfied his interference had been logical. 

**J <3S **


End file.
